A glimpse of white down there in the wetlands, seen from my deck as I was hanging out washing; triple blink. What on earth could that be? Camera grab, race down to the yard, tiptoe to my fence.
The strange creature’s spoon-shaped bill said ’Spoonbill’ of course, although I have never had one visit me, here or elsewhere.
But it seemed to have a neck that could swivel 360 degrees. Cleaning its feathered back? Or scratching?
Apart from acrobatic ablutions, that long beak is used for sweeping shallow waters for food.
The black bill and legs and the red eyes tell me it is a Royal Spoonbill, confirmed by the impressive crest of head plumes I glimpsed earlier.
With the crest lowered, it looks more like a bearded elder, with hair hanging over its collar. And did it just yawn?
The weird and wonderful denizens of and visitors to even my little patch keep me in touch enough with the wild to survive in a town. Almost…